WHAT A JEW MEANS IN THIS TIME: Naftule Brandwein, Dave Tarras and the shifting aesthetics in the contemporary klezmer landscape Joel E. Rubin University of Virginia Clarinetists Naftule Brandwein (1884-1963) and Dave Tarras (1895-1989) were the two leading performers of Jewish instrumental klezmer music in New York during the first half of the 20th century. Due to their virtuosity, colorful personalities and substantial recorded legacy, it was the repertoire and style of these two musicians that served as the major influence on the American (and transnational) klezmer revival movement from its emergence in the mid-1970s at least until the mid-1990s.1 Naftule Brandwein playing a solo in a New York catering hall, ca. late 1930s. Photo courtesy of Dorothea Goldys-Bass 1 Dave Tarras playing a solo in a New York catering hall, ca. early 1940s. Photo courtesy of the Center for Traditional Music and Dance, New York. Since that time, the influence of Brandwein and Tarras on contemporary klezmer has waned to some extent as a younger generation of klezmer musicians, many born in the 1970s and 1980s, has adopted new role models and the hegemony of the Brandwein-Tarras canon has been challenged.2 In particular, beginning in the early 1990s and continuing to the present, a parallel interest has developed among many contemporary klezmer musicians in the eastern European roots of the tradition. At the same time, a tendency towards innovation and a fusing of traditional klezmer music of various historical periods and regions with a variety of styles has emerged. These include jazz, rhythm and blues, funk, Hip-Hop and Balkan music. In addition, a number of contemporary klezmer musicians have been involved in the composition of new material that may or may not be based on the stylistic parameters of klezmer music historically. In this paper, I will attempt to chart the aesthetic shift that has taken place, showing that it is connected with broader issues of ethnic and religious identity. Hankus Netsky (b. 1955), founder of the Klezmer Conservatory Band in 1980 and now also an ethnomusicologist, was one of the first to get involved in the klezmer revival in the 1970s. A descendant of a Philadelphia klezmer family, he became interested in finding out more about the tradition as a teenager. Not knowing anything about klezmer music or its history, he visited his uncle Sam Katz in 1974. He describes his experience listening to the 78 rpm recordings his uncle was playing for him on that day: He played me [Yiddish comedian and clarinetist] Mickey Katz and I said, “hmm, that’s kind of funny, maybe, for somebody.” And he played me Dave Tarras, and actually my first reaction ... was, “well that’s technically you know amazing.” I didn’t find myself particularly moved by them. I just thought, “obviously, there’s something here,” but really the first thing that hit me, you know, like “ok, this is really something you could do something with,” was hearing [“A hora mit tsibeles”] ... the Romanian hora that Brandwein played. And I found that record was like I’d never heard anything like that! Oh my god, I couldn’t believe it, you know! 2 That sounded amazing to me. And I said, “play that again. That’s good!”3 And what I think it was, was ... my sensibility regarding ethnic music really was formed around Greek music, and while I’d heard lots of Jewish music and lots of klezmer, I’d never heard any klezmer that sounded like Greek music. ... Everything else I heard, no matter what it was ... it tended to sound to me too processed, too American. And it was when I heard Brandwein that I heard something that sounded, you know, like European Jewish music that I knew existed but I’d never heard (Interview H. Netsky, 2007). Audio clip of Naftule Brandwein’s “A hora mit tsibeles”: http://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/Conney2007.RubinAudio The notion of a European klezmer tradition that was somehow more musically compelling, more authentic, and not tainted by the American immigrant experience, is an important trope that has been present from the very beginning of the klezmer revival. I assert that this notion at least partially accounts for a gradual aesthetic shift away from the American repertoire and style in general, and ultimately to the waning influence of Brandwein and Tarras as well. At the same time, the klezmer movement’s looking to Jewish sources from 19th century eastern Europe is a convenient way of avoiding the century that brought about the Holocaust and the Stalinist persecutions of Soviet Jewry. In a recent interview with violinist Alicia Svigals (b. 1963), she stated: “People are trying to reach back to before the Holocaust, a lot of it is that it’s like this wound, and this gap that people are trying to bridge. It’s about that as much [or] more than just the actual music” (Interview A. Svigals, 2007). Alicia is a leading performer of the klezmer revival and a former member of the popular crossover group The Klezmatics. As a violinist, she, too, was and still is profoundly influenced by the music of Brandwein and Tarras: I think in the mid-80s when I started doing this ... Brandwein and Tarras was all we had, and we didn’t have access to other stuf – yet. ... To us, that was klezmer ... And there wasn’t too much of it, either. So there was a certain limited number of tunes that everybody seemed to be learning. So I totally learned from them... I think [clarinetist] Kurt [Bjorling] also gave me his violin tape, early on ..., so I ... figured out how [they] were dealing with the ornaments, and got some violin style going that way. But other than figuring out exactly how to make those sounds on the violin that way, I then went back to Tarras and Brandwein... So I didn’t end up in a way emulating those old fiddlers, ... and I got kind of imprinted like a duckling right away by Tarras and Brandwein, that’s what I wanted to sound like. Even though there were fiddle recordings, they weren’t as interesting to me. Honestly, they didn’t sound as good, they weren’t as compelling ... So I think what ended up happening was I really developed a clarinet style on the violin. ... The point was sometimes people would listen and they’d be like, ‘was that a clarinet or a violin?’ ... It was the way I was playing. I was totally doing the Brandwein-Tarras thing on the violin (Interview, A. Svigals, 2007). 3 Alicia Svigals teaching and performing at the University of Virginia, December 2007. Photo courtesy of John Mason As part of this study, I have been listening to many renditions by revival musicians of tunes learned from recordings of Brandwein and Tarras. In addition, I have included performances that were not specifically based on Brandwein and Tarras repertoire, but were otherwise influenced by the two musicians. Examples drawn from these recordings show in auditory terms some of the musical strategies that run parallel to this aesthetic discourse, which serve to illustrate broader issues of identity. These performances do not fall into a single approach stylistically, but represent a spectrum of approaches that run the gamut from renditions that could be termed “traditional” or “faithful” to ones that would be considered “experimental” or “avant- garde”. The majority of them fall somewhere between the two extremes.4 Audio clips of Alicia Svigals’ “Ternovker Sher” (recorded 1997) and Dave Tarras’s “Ternovker Sher” (recorded ca. 1945).5: http://digital.library.wisc.edu/1711.dl/Conney2007.RubinAudio 4 CD Cover, Alicia Svigals ‘Fidl.’ Image courtesy of Traditional Crossroads Pairing the revival versions of Brandwein and Tarras repertoire with the original recordings is a useful tool in revealing aesthetic diferences between the klezmer tradition that Brandwein, Tarras and their cohort represented and the music of the contemporary klezmer revival. Comparing, for example, Svigals’ rendition of Dave Tarras’ “Ternovker Sher” from 1997 with the original recorded by Tarras around 1945, some of the key diferences between the two versions are the slower tempo and more ornate melodic playing of Svigals. She terms this “hyper-“ or “x-treme” ornamentation: I discovered the ornaments and then I went nuts with them. And I think everybody did, because we were doing more than playing music. We were making a statement. We found this language ... There was an extra layer of motivation on there (Interview A. Svigals, 2007).6 As folklorist Barbara Kirshenblatt-Gimblett has pointed out, “While klezmer revival suggests the primacy of recovery, initially a copying of what can still be heard on old records and from elderly musicians, ‘it is the copying that originates,’ [my emphasis] as [anthropologist] Cliford Geertz has so aptly stated, even in the case of meticulous musical reconstructions”.7 Alicia herself comments: I developed a style that was about a half clarinet, a quarter Greek ... and then a quarter me. ... I don’t believe in authentic, really. You can’t sound like that old generation, ‘cause you’re not them. They’ve got a magic, but now I realize that we’ve got a magic, too. I always lamented, ah “we almost sound like them, but there’s a magic and we never capture it”. But now that we’re twenty, thirty years on, I went back recently and listened to the first demo tape the Klezmatics made, and it’s like, wow, we had a magic. We didn’t know it at the time. It’s diferent from what we were emulating (Interview A.